


Reporting In

by TeraKaren



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 23:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9930998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeraKaren/pseuds/TeraKaren
Summary: It's been months since Jack was made Strike Commander of Overwatch and having become estranged from his friend Gabriel, he requests that he hand in the report from Blackwatch's latest mission in person. Gabriel complies. Kinda.





	

Overwatch Strike Commander Jack Morrison tapped a steady rhythm on his desk with his pen as he stared at the time on his computer terminal. At exactly one second before it was a minute after 1700 his door clicked open.

“You’re late,” Jack huffed with a small smile, not moving his eyes from his computer as he clicked on emails he’d already read to make it look like he’d been engrossed with work and not this very appointment. He expected the usual shut down of the lie, a short “No I’m not”, but it never came.

Jack quickly dismissed his disappointment and looked up to greet the person who was possibly not the man he’d been expecting only to watch Gabriel Reyes stand in front of his desk, arms held tightly at his side and gaze held up like some cadet in basic addressing a commanding officer.

Jack felt thrown off for a second, this being the last thing he’d expected when he'd requested the Blackwatch Commander meet him in person for debriefing. Gabriel sending someone else in his place was far more likely. It was made all the more ridiculous when the man was dressed in the same gray hoodie and beanie Jack’d seen him wear both when they’d liberated San Salvador during the Omnic Crisis and also when he’d dragged Jack around Zurich looking for the best place to get his bi-weekly soy latte.

“Sorry sir. Won’t happen again, Sir.” Jack’s smile faltered. For a man who housed so many secrets, Gabe was remarkable unsubtle.

“At ease, Commander. This is just a standard briefing,” Jack said tightly, “Not that you show up enough for you to know that.”

Gabriel eased his stance, but only to gracefully transition into a textbook parade rest. He made no effort to sit down.

“Sir, do my reports not reach you by 1700 within the 48 hours allocated after the completion of a mission?” Gabriel asked with fake earnestness, not moving his gaze from what Jack thought could be his forehead. Certainly wasn't his eyes, the coward. Jack started moving his head around to test his theory.

“Yes, I’ve received your reports in a timely manner.” Jack ducked his head down and then to the right, following Gabriel’s gaze, “despite some of your more unorthodox delivery methods.”

Normally someone in Blackwatch would come deliver the reports. Hell, Gabriel’s recruit from the Deadlock gang was so green that Delivery Boy had been the only job he was qualified to do for a while. Jack stopped moving his head. Gabriel was totally staring at his forehead.

“Speaking of, I’m not sure that anyone delivering pizza has authorization to deliver Blackwatch reports,” Jack scolded with a pointed look. 

Gabriel scoffed and Jack blinked out of his glare. Was that a slip in his act? Gabe caught himself and schooled his features, but the split second look of self-reprimand made the corners of Jack’s mouth lift up. Gabe stared at his forehead.

“Oz delivers all of Overwatch’s pizza, Sir,” he replied with slightly more grit in his faux earnest tone, “They have a higher clearance than some of my recruits, Sir, and excuse me for getting personal, but they spend so much time in R ‘n D that Torbjorn invited them to his daughter’s birthday party.”

Jack, of course, knew this. Hell, he'd been at that birthday party. So had Gabe. They’d _carpooled_ together.

“Commander, considering the secretive nature of Blackwatch, I think it would be best if only those who actually know of its existence handle the reports.”

“Understood. I will send one of mine up to directly hand in reports from here on out.”

“That’s all I ask...no wait, also no singing. Yeah, also no more singing. I don't know how you recruited the one person on the planet who could track a gnat in a meadow and also used to work part time as a singing telegram.”

“My team is well rounded, sir!” There was a small quirk upward in the corner of Commander Reyes’ mouth and an exhausted crinkle in the corner of his eyes.

“They are indeed,” Jack said warmly. He knew that look and it was reassuring that Gabriel seemed fond of _something_ in his new position. Gabriel eyes moved down enough to the point where he was nearly looking him in the eye, and Jack half expected him to start complaining about his recruits in that proud and exasperated way he’d done in quiet moments during the Crisis, but instead schooled his expression back into the resting, stern expression he’d been training on Jack’s forehead this entire time.

“Is that an order, Sir?” 

“Pardon?” Jack asked, clearly having missed something, but he didn’t know what.

“The singing. Is that an order?”

It came out in the same tone as before, but the question hung heavy and enticing, as deliberate as the attentive straightness of Gabriel’s back. It gave Jack pause as he watched his former Commanding Officer in that moment, no longer holding an official rank for a uniform to be necessary, the dying light of the day lightening his brown eyes to a piercing honey color as the sun slipped behind mountains visible from the scenic view outside Jack’s too large office.

“Yes, that’s an order,” Jack replied steadily and sure, like an old pair of boots.

“Understood,” Commander Reyes responded, practiced and ready like a finger on a trigger.

He stepped forward, set his report on Jack’s desk, and stepped back to damn near the same spot in parade rest.

“Here is my report, Commander. I hope that you find our work to meet Overwatch’s high standard.”

There was some bitterness to his tone. Not overtly, but obvious to someone who had lived and fought alongside Gabriel Reyes for damn near two decades. Jack felt the hope for whatever it was he’d hoped to get out of seeing his old friend evaporate. His shoulders suddenly felt heavier.

“I’m sure that it will. You and your team have always met Overwatch’s standards. That’s why we have one of our best calling the shots. Pretty sure you set some of those standards,” Jack said with a flippant light heartedness and lingering quirk that could have been a smile. His words fell uselessly like they couldn't hold the weight of their truth. He knew they’d never reach Gabriel, not the way they were now. There was no way to compliment the other Commander’s work or prop up his position without sounding condescending. How very like Gabe to put Jack in a no-win situation.

“Not nearly as many is you, Sir,” Commander Reyes said pointedly. Jack felt irritation creep up his neck and settle behind his right eye, taking Reyes’ quip for the jab it was. He just wanted this done. Luckily, the man before him hadn't wanted to be here in the first place.

“Is that all, Commander?”

“Yes, that is all _Commander_ ,” Jack emphasized back, too tired of this for the high road.

Reyes nodded and started heading out, exhaling out of his tight alertness when his back was to Jack, he stuck his hands in his hoodie and walked in his more familiar stride. Something about seeing it reminded Jack of a last piece of business.

“Wait,” Jack said, causing Gabriel to stop, square up his shoulders and turn halfway to him.

“Sir?” 

“Nothing official ‘if you’ll excuse me for getting personal’” he mocked and Reyes look conflicted on if he wanted to leave or continue proving his damn annoying point about the current hierarchy in Overwatch with his perfect subordinate act. Jack decided to continue speaking before he made a decision.

“Ana is coming to visit with Fareeha. They're going to be staying at my place.”

Gabe turned to face him fully, arms still in his hoodie and looking Jack in the eye for the first time since he entered the room. Jack felt that hope spring back and he grabbed onto it, unable to stop talking in the hopes of getting more.

“Ana’s on two weeks of leave and she’s spending part of it here in Zurich because apparently her daughter misses us and Ana does too. Ana made sure to emphasize that it was mostly Reinhardt that the kiddo missed and not us two knuckleheads, but even so she has been asking about us. Fareeha’s gotten it in her head that she wants to do Christmas with the tree and gifts and everything. I'm supposed to invite you since no one has seen you since Lena appeared again a couple months back. So what do you say?”

It was a mouthful, but Jack was grinning after, the rush of his words having gotten rid of some of the tense formality that made dealing with Gabriel’s wrath so much worse.

Gabriel was staring at him like he was an idiot. Jack could only bring himself to feel a little insulted by it, unreasonably satisfied as he was that Gabe was looking at him for the first time since Jack’s promotion as something other than the Overwatch Strike Commander.

“No,” Gabriel finally answered and Jack frowned.

“No?”

“No, Fareeha is not doing Christmas. It’s October. She’ll have to do Halloween,” he declared. Jack gaped at him, feeling his irritation rising again.

“What? No! We’re in Zurich! There is no Halloween in Zurich!” At least Jack hoped not. He’d never cared enough to ask if there were a pocket of Halloween enthusiasts in the city, and he was happier for it.

“Then we’ll make a Halloween. It's not like you don't have an entire base full of personnel who you can order to participate.”

“That’s an abuse of power, and you know it!” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and held up his hand to stop whatever Gabe was going to say next.

“And we’re not having a Halloween themed Christmas. This is not another chance for you and Angela to get into a weird costume contest.”

“Don’t spoil the kid’s fun just because you have a vendetta against the best holiday of the year.”

“I don't have a vendetta! Just because I don't see what’s so damn great about dressing up as the Easter Bunny and buying too much candy to give out to strangers’ children- whatever! I'm not arguing about this with you again. Are you coming over, or not?”

Damn, he’d forgotten how annoying Gabe was when he wanted something that wasn't the thing ruining their near lifelong friendship. It was more comforting than it had any right to be.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” was grumbled more quietly and reluctantly than expected, and Jack looked up to a Gabriel Reyes with his arms still in his hoodie but his eyes on the floor.

Right. Jack had gotten so caught up in their old rhythms that he’d forgotten for a second that things were still not good between them. They still had to figure out their new normal, and if Gabe couldn't let go of his resentment about Jack’s promotion, Jack wasn't sure he could bridge the gap. Maybe with Fareeha and Ana’s visit Gabe would see that he stood to lose more than professional standing with his piss poor attitude and avoidance. According to the Committee, Gabriel actually was indispensable to Overwatch, despite the man’s own assumptions, and they were damn lucky the asshole stuck around to be a pain in Jack’s ass, but it was in a completely different way than he was irreplaceable to the people who loved him. Gabriel still had the family that they’d all made during the Omnic Crisis and they needed him, rank or not, including Jack. He’d been waiting for Gabe to remember that and hoped that they’d come out on top when measured against his career, even though Jack knew he was the last person to have any right to ask that of him. They just wanted their friend back before it was too late.

“Good, see you there,” Jack answered, his voice sounding small but also too loud in the quiet room.

Gabe looked up at him and Jack gave him a small smile. Gabe just closed his eyes and turned away. That could have gone worse.

The next day, Jack was called in early to his office after the head of security had informed him that there had been a breakin in their offices. The strange thing was that nothing appeared to be stolen. Security had checked the whole building except area’s that even the Head of Security didn't have access to, like basically anything on Jack’s Desk and the secret panels they did not know about in the first place. They needed him to finish the inspection so they could move forward.

As soon as Jack sat down at his desk, having left two security officers outside his closed door, he received a call. The number was unlisted which wasn't possible since outside calls couldn’t even reach his desk. He steeled himself, ready for anything to happen from a bomb threat to a hostile takeover of one of their bases. He answered the call.

“Hello,” he said with all the authority he had, ready to do what was needed of him for his people.

“Hey,” a grouchy voice answered him, “Look, I got about two hours of sleep because one of Situ’s grunts woke me up at the asscrack of dawn. This security thing is one of mine. He had a stealth mission. He failed. He’ll pay.”

Jack knew that voice.

“Gabriel?” He asked tensely.

“Reporting in. I'm sending in a requisition for the security tape for your office. Don't worry, it's for educational use.”

“What the hell Gabe?”

“Check your top right drawer,” was all he said before ending the call.

Jack stared at the blinking “Call Ended” on the holoscreen in front of him and took a deep breath, that did nothing to calm him and made him wish keenly that he’d had coffee within reach.

Tensely he opened the top right drawer and inside there was a new report cube sitting there. Jack reached down and threw the report cube on his desk, letting the computer integrated into his desk enter all the correct passwords. A mission requisition form projected upward.

At the top, in the “Proposed Mission Code Name” field were the words “Blackwatch Halloween Initiative.” 

He was going to kill Gabe.

**Author's Note:**

> In my mind Gabriel is a petty, stubborn, showy asshole who buys seasonal Starbucks drinks and inspires loyalty in his men and fear in his enemies in all five of his gray hoodies. I love him a lot. Jack is not a fan of Halloween.
> 
> Theory is that Gabriel was really a douche in the beginning of post-Crisis Overwatch about the promotion that he was passed up on, but he got over it mostly. It was the decade following when things got really sour.


End file.
